Does Anybody Hear Her?
by LifetimeTwilightLov
Summary: Elliot and Kathy take in a foster kid.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"It was Kathy's idea," Elliot Stabler told his partner with a shrug, but Olivia could tell he wasn't pleased about it.

"So you're going to just let her?"

"It's done already. We've got some screwed up foster kid from downtown Manhattan, seventeen. Got a great record too. Her police record is longer than most adults. Drugs, prostitution, assault, possession, stealing, you name it, she's done it."

"El, how can you just let her into your house then?"

Elliot stopped short when he saw a young girl he knew to be his new foster child standing in the doorway of the Special Victims' Unit squad room. She smiled awkwardly, glancing around. "Detective, I'm Allison Narnic, Manon's case worker," the older woman said, shaking hands with him firmly. "You probably won't see her much. Work, volleyball practice, band practice, and school. Her curfew's eleven. The cops come immediately if she's not in the door by eleven. She drives herself. Got her own car. Call me if you have any questions."

Elliot nodded, studying Manon. She was tall and thin, but muscular and clearly exercised regularly. Red hair, blue eyes, skinny jeans and a tank top. Elliot could see her phone was in one of her front pockets. "Thanks," he said to Allison quietly.

"So you're a cop?" Manon inquired, looking around. "Special Victims' Unit."

"We investigate sex--"

"Yeah, I know. Sex crimes, crimes against the elderly. Go to my school and try to find one person who doesn't know about the famous Special Victims," she told him quietly as she continued to look around. She let out a slow breath then. "Well, I have work in fifteen minutes, so I'd better go. I'll see you around, right?"

"Where do you work?" Elliot asked as she turned to leave.

"Coffee shop. We have donuts too, but they're not usually very good," she replied with a small smile. "Why?"

"I'll drive you. We're headed that way."

Manon nodded, grinning at Olivia. "Right. How do you know? I haven't even told you which one."

"Good coffee, lousy donuts? Only one place like that around here," Olivia said.

"Ah. I see. So this isn't some attempt to make sure I'm not running off or whatever?" Manon shrugged. "Well, actually, I have my truck with me. But if you want, you can follow, or ride with me. Whatever you want. Doesn't matter to me. My truck's outside."

"We'll follow."

"Okay." Manon looked somewhat amused as she fell into step next to Elliot. "So... is this a coincidence--you being a cop?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Just wondering," Manon mumbled, pulling her phone out as it started to ring. She slowed her walk down a little. "Hey. What's up?" she answered. Elliot heard a pause and turned. Manon had stopped. "You okay?" Another pause. "Yeah, I'm on my way. I'll be there in about ten minutes probably. Sweet! See you then. We'll go hang out after I get off work." Manon closed her phone easily, and broke into a jog to catch the elevator before it left.

"Who was that?" Elliot asked.

"My best friends, Shelton. We're going riding after I get off work."

"Riding?"

Manon nodded. "Horseback riding." She pulled out her phone again, and showed Elliot the screensaver. "That's my horse, Peter Pan. I ride a bunch of others, but he's mine. Shelton's a friend of mine from the barn. I'm helping him train his new horse."

"I see. So do you think I would approve of him?"

Manon frowned a minute, but there was a bit of an awkward smile again. "Depends on how high your standards are, I guess. But let's just say my last foster parent was Baptist, and they liked him. He's my best friend pretty much."

"Nothing deeper than friends?" Elliot asked.

Manon laughed. "No. Boyfriends aren't worth it in my experience. Anyway, if I wanted to get pregnant, I already would be, or I'd have a kid."

"Really?"

"I don't want kids," Manon hurried to tell him. "And I don't want to end up pregnant."

"Then why were you charged with prostitution?"

Manon raised an eyebrow. "Misunderstanding. When you're seventeen, go to the worst high school in the city, and you end up paying someone who's known for soliciting prostitution, it doesn't look right. It especially doesn't look right when you say you 'slept over' at his place. Dumb ass move on my part, but I'm not a prostitute, okay?"

"Really? Then why were you staying at his house?"

"He was a friend of mine, and--"

"Was?"

Manon nodded. "Yeah, was," she confirmed. "I didn't have anywhere else to go at that time, so I went where I could. Anywhere's better than on the streets. Especially during January."

"So why is it past tense? Why isn't he still your friend?"

"He's dead," Manon answered as the elevator door opened. She dashed out before anyone could say anything else though.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Manon got home only minutes before her curfew. Barefoot, but her shoes in hand and as many bags as she could carry. She was followed by a girl around her age. Manon let out a breath, dropping all the bags on the floor. "Out of every foster kid, I swear to God I have the most crap," she muttered before she turned to Elliot. "Hey, this is my friend Katy. She's gonna sleep over and help me unpack tomorrow if that's okay."

"Don't you have school tomorrow?"

"Nope. Teacher conferences."

"And how do you know Katy?"

Manon glanced over at her friend. "Work. Are you going to ask about every friend I have?"

"Well, you do attend the worst high school in the city. I don't know which of your friends are the bad influences who got you into the trouble."

"Right... Okay. Well, since you're a cop and all, maybe you'll be one of the few people who understand this. Someone can influence someone else to do bad things, but they can't make them do it, at least not in the situations you're talking about. Anyway, Katy's fine. Feel free to question her too. I gotta take a shower. I smell like horse."

"Don't have to tell us that," Katy mumbled, picking up bags. "I love your trash bag system."

Manon laughed. "Throw all the laundry into a bag, yup, some system. But at least I know where all my clothes are, right?"

Kathy, Elliot's wife, came down the stairs, smiling. "Hi. I'm Kathy."

"Manon." She smiled a little, seeing Kathy's look. "It's French, I think. Also an opera, I believe. My mom was French."

"So you do know your parents?"

"Not by choice, rather by force," Manon replied, glancing at Katy again. "Well, uh, I'm tired. So I'm gonna head on up to bed."

"Of course, first door on the left is yours," Kathy told her.

Manon nodded and ran up to the room, Katy close by with more bags. Manon collapsed on the bed as soon as the door was closed. "God, I hate starting at new foster homes. It's hell every time. And he's a cop, so naturally he's gonna be weirder than normal."

"Normal? Hon, you haven't been to an even close to normal foster home."

"Yeah, we'll he's farthest away from normal so far, I'll say that much." Manon sat up quickly, rolling over. "I want pizza," she announced suddenly to change the subject.


End file.
